An Acute Account
by Chicken Yuki
Summary: With gift in hand, an anxious yet determined Chelsea makes her way to Regis' Manor, where Vaughn just so happened to be at the moment.  Told with an unusually overdramatic narrative.


_**Disclaimer: All your Harvest Moon are belong to Marvelous Interactive and Natsume.**_

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**An Acute Account**

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Right down the main pathway and into the business district, Chelsea sped forth with a wrapped gift in hand.

With a seeming, single-minded purpose, the brunette lass with a bandana pressed on to her destination, not noticing the many eyes on her.

Some spoke up, some even reached out to her, but none would bar her from her path.

This resumed into the residential and vacationing district, where many more strangers than friends dwelled.

Many speculated her purpose, and even pondered the means of her resolved, but only she knew why she continued moving onward.

She headed towards the household of Pierre Gourment, whose dishes emanated sensational scents that would cause most to stop and sample, but it was not the case for Chelsea, who simply moved on.

She traveled unfazed, unhampered, undeterred. She refused to be undermined from her task at hand.

And with much time to spare, she reached her destination:

The grand Regis Villa, home of a grand family.

Before she made this trek, she had heard on this day that a silver-haired man had also made his way here.

Out of a mix of swirling feelings, she braced herself, concerned of what may come, and moved forth with her resolve renewed.

Inside, she heard the cries of wails of a man whose voice lashed out like a fiend and tyrant, yet it was him whom she cared for.

Without a whisper or a whine of conflict, the brunette directed her attention towards the stairs. Her lack of response nearly incurred the wrath of the man she so casually ignored, yet the raven-haired Regis was preoccupied with business of his own.

With another obstacle out of the way, Young Chelsea only had one more to face. She made her way up the stairs slowly but surely.

At the top floor, she saw with her very eyes the silver-haired man she was told would be here, as well as the daughter of the raven-haired tyrant from below, clothed like a modern day, near-sighted princess.

Chelsea took one more glance at the pair, feeling somewhat bothered by the pairs of violet eyes they shared. She pondered the peculiar connection between the two for one brief moment, then simply shrugged it off.

All that stood before her now was one last nuisance and her intended drop-off point: the recipient of her gift.

She moved forward yet again, tightening her hold on her wrapped gift like a cautious sentinel, inching towards the violet-eyed pair.

She briefly eyed the man, held on to her gift even tighter, then moved right past him as if he was of little consequence.

The spectacled heiress blinked as she stared in surprise. In this moment of brief silence, the wrapped gift was pressed in her grasp.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be around sooner, but Happy Birthday, Sabrina!" Chelsea cried in a panic.

"You knew? But… how? I never even said anything" Sabrina gasped.

"Uh, yeah…." Chelsea began as she laughed anxiously, " About that? I took a glance at your calendar when you weren't looking. Sorry if I invaded your privacy…"

"No, no. It's alright. A simple calendar glance isn't like diary peeking, I'd assume." answered Sabrina.

Both Chelsea and the unnoticed young man stared curiously at the precocious heiress.

"I mean, if I had one, of course…" Sabrina finished awkwardly.

"N-no, I get it. I just… I know you wouldn't want to go the materialistic route on a special day like this, so I tried a more sentimental approach this time," Chelsea sighed, "But you know me. I'm not really the artsy type. It… might… suck…"

The bespectacled heiress chose to ignore her friend's doubts and opened the gift without a second thought. Wrapped inside was a lavender scarf.

"I thought even a girly girl like you would get sick of all the pink you wear all the time… so I tried making that to tone it down… but it's still in that sissy color range, isn't it?" Chelsea explained as she was apparently half-hearted in her teasing, but far more anxious in her self-doubt.

"Oh, no! I love it, actually! And you're right: I really was starting to get tired of all this pink this whole time. It's a good thing I happened to be considering lavender next to go along with this scarf, huh?" Sabrina cheered.

The novice knitter nodded her head bashfully, yet happily.

"T-thank you…"

"No, thank you."

At that moment, Fair Chelsea was treated with a warm smile from her warm-hearted friend.

The warmth slowly flooded her being not with pride, but with relief.

Gently, the heiress removed the scarf from the giftbox, then carefully wrapped it around her neck. Her soothed smile the unnoticed silver-haired man's cheeks to turn red.

"It's so nice and soft. I'm sure it will keep me warm in the Winter days to come," Sabrina said cheerfully.

"Good to know," Chelsea smiled back while giving her a thumb's up.

Quickly realizing she may have stepped in on something important, Chelsea stepped back and gestured frantically in apology.

"Er, sorry if I interrupted anything." She uttered lamely before leaving the room in a hurry.

After a period of awkward silence, the silver-haired man gave an irritable sigh.

"I thought all the gift-giving was already done with…" he grumbled with visible disappointment.

The bespectacled birthday maiden shrugged and laughed nervously.

"Well, it was a late arrival, after all. It couldn't be helped."

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**_*glances up at title words in Document Manager* ... does this thing hate centered text now?_**


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